


sweet sweet sunshine

by earlgrey_milktea



Series: milktea's saso2017 fills [14]
Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Baking, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Pining, Prompt Fill, abe's gay thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 17:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11189688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: abe and mihashi bake some cupcakes together. abe is at a loss, and so, so gay.





	sweet sweet sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> original prompt card [here](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/22249.html?thread=11649513#cmt11649513)
> 
> square C2: **baking together**
> 
> i do not trust myself in a kitchen so pls don't @ me about baking details

“And then the eggs, Abe-kun.”

“Right.” Takaya reaches across the table and grabs the eggs. He holds one in each hand, carefully and hesitantly, turning back to Mihashi with uncertainty written all over his face. 

Mihashi takes an egg from his hand and cracks it against the bowl with practiced grace. Takaya watches the egg yolk plop onto the cake mix they poured in previously. It looks disgusting. He doesn’t understand how that is supposed to turn into delicious cupcakes that will make his mother happy. He’s just listening to what Mihashi tells him to do.

It’s a strange experience, this role reversal.

Takaya follows Mihashi’s example, though his egg shell crack into more than a few pieces rather than Mihashi’s clean two halves. They dump out the shells and Takaya stands back as Mihashi checks the instructions. The kitchen is cleaner than he thought it would be. There’s flour on his shirt and probably in his hair, but that’s the worst of it. Baking isn’t exactly an activity he’d put at the top of any list, but Takaya finds that he doesn’t really mind it. 

Mihashi certainly doesn’t mind it. He seems to thrive in this quiet environment, where it’s just the two of them and ingredients laid out on the table neatly. Takaya steers his thoughts away on how it’s  _ just the two of them _ , studying the other boy as Mihashi moves around the counter, babbling about the next steps as he goes. His stance is looser. His expression still as lively as ever, but more relaxed. He talks more, stutters less. His hands are certain, but in an effortless way rather than the trained firmness when he’s on the mound.

Mihashi is  _ comfortable  _ in a kitchen, even though he’s left alone with Takaya. He  _ volunteered  _ to do this with Takaya. Mihashi is happy and at home in the kitchen and Takaya is absolutely captivated.

“Abe-kun?”

Mihashi is blinking at him expectantly. Takaya flounders for a moment, caught off guard. “Uh, sorry, what now?”

“We’re going to mix it! And then we’ll pour the batter into the pan, so when the oven is ready, we can put it in, and let it bake!”

“O-Okay. Cool.” Takaya resists the urge to smack himself in the face. Mihashi isn’t flinching away from him anymore, yet Takaya still finds it difficult to communicate properly. What is it about this boy that makes him forget how to freaking talk?

Mihashi lets him hold the electric mixer, and Takaya obediently keeps it steady for about a minute before he can feel the bowl start to slip, and batter flying upwards. 

“Oh, frick,” he mutters, but Mihashi just calmly reaches over and switches the machine off.

“It’s okay!” Mihashi says. He hands him a towel. “It’s tricky!”

“Here, you can do it.”

Takaya wipes the batter off his arms. Some of it landed on his shirt, and he stares down at his chest in dismay. At least he had the sense to wear an old shirt of his. He glances back up, and kind of freezes.

The batter is on Mihashi, too. There’s flecks of it on the collar of his shirt, splattered on his cheeks and blending in with his freckles, scattered in his hair. Mihashi lifts a hand to wipe at his nose, and ends up with a streak of flour across his face. Takaya has never felt so ridiculously gay before.

Mihashi must have felt the weight of his gaze, because he turns, and meets Takaya’s gaze. He tilts his head, eyes wide, like a bird. “Abe-kun? Okay?”

“Yeah,” Takaya says. “Okay. Great. I’m—I’m great.”

“That’s good,” says Mihashi. He unplugs the mixer and proudly presents the bowl. “Time to pour in the batter. Want to try?”

Still feeling strangely like floating and way too warm in his chest, Takaya moves closer. He stares down at the bowl in his hands as Mihashi readies the cupcake pan. The goop looks soggy and sticky and sappy and sweet and it resonates greatly with Takaya’s current emotions.

When the batter is safely poured into the pan and placed into the oven, Takaya steps back. He watches Mihashi fuss over the timer. He looks down at his dirty hands. He’s having fun, he realizes.

“Abe-kun?” 

Takaya looks up, finds Mihashi’s familiar hazel eyes. “There’s flour on your face.”

Mihashi goes cross-eyed at his words, before he blinks hard and shakes his head. Before Takaya can think it through, he’s reaching out, touching Mihashi’s face. The other boy stands still as Takaya brushes aside the batter and flour. Takaya tries hard not to linger on how soft Mihashi’s skin is. 

He pulls back. “I hope the cakes turn out okay,” he says.

Mihashi nods, quickly and too many times, like he does. “Me, too!”

“Thanks for helping me, Mihashi.”

Mihashi beams at him, and Takaya is too far gone to care that he compares that smile to a sunrise breaking across his horizons. 

He smiles back.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me about these soft blushy baseball gays @puddingcatbae on tumblr or twitter


End file.
